Chess and Checkers
by AnotherGenericNerd
Summary: I've been here for like, what, barely even a week? I don't know anyone, or anything. I haven't bothered anyone, I like to keep a low profile... So why do these ass-hats keep on stalking me!
1. Who the hell are you

Victor K. Chess was "that weird ghost guy". He was "unapproachable". He was "unpredictable" and he was "emotionless".

But he was not unnoticed.

Funny how those who wish to disappear become the spotlight.

And that's exactly how it was for him.

After moving to South Park, he expected no friends and no enemies, to be left alone entering the high school so late.

Well, he was wrong. He wasn't usually wrong, but he hadn't read up on this place before the move- considering there was nothing to read. It was too secluded, too isolated. There was nothing on it.

Not that he really cared. The pestering was pretty irritating though.

All he wanted to do was get to his locker and get to class, but nooooo, some fat kid had to waddle up with three other students.

"Hey."

He ignored him, face still and voice silent as he dumped his textbooks into his new locker.

"Aye! I'm talkin' to you!"

He wasn't going to answer, why couldn't he see that? All Chess wanted was to be left alone, and it was pretty obvious. He had made it clear when he had turned down all those girls earlier.

"Respect my authoritah!"

His nose wrinkled at the thought. Slutty clothes, lying smiles and faces caked in makeup. Manicured nails that bit into his skin as they clung to his bare arms. He nearly groaned at the memory and suppressed a shudder.

"Hey! Earth to checkers!"

Against his better judgement, he turned, absolutely done with this guy. Who even was he? Was he stupid or something?

He was rather... Fat, fatter than he first though from his sideways glance earlier. He wore an old red sweater and a blue hat with a yellow rim and matching puff ball at the top.

The three boys behind him all wore colorful clothing, almost hurting his murky red burgundy eyes.

The shortest of the group was pale, wearing a simple green ear flapped hat that had obnoxious red curls sticking out from underneath above dark green eyes. He wore an orange jacket that made him feel like his eyes burned in their sockets.

The second tallest was wearing a worn old orange parka, lined with brown fluff. The hood was up, drawstrings pulled out as far as they could to hide away all of his face but his sky blue eyes. A blond curl or two still stuck out from beneath however. All of him was orange, including his pants and shoes except for brown gloves.

The third, the tallest was a fair tanned boy, a blue and red poof ball hat holding down straight black locks that shifted over his dark blue irises. He wore a simple brown coat and black jeans. Red gloved covered his hands which were shoved into his pockets.

He stayed quiet, resorting to just staring to let them know they had his attention... For now.

The fat boy smirked.

"Finally." Beginning to think you were ducking deaf or some shit." He rolled his eyes, continuing to screw around with his books.

Knowing he was still listening, the fat boy kept talking.

"Welcome, new kid. Ah am Cartman. Yew may address me as "king Eric". This is the poor kid, Kinneh, Stan, and Kahl. Ignore him, he's Jewish."

"Shut the fuck up, fatass!" 'Kahl' must have interrupted.

"Aye! I ain't fat I'm big boned!"

"Just get on with it Cartman." Stan must have said, judging how 'Kinneh's parka would most likely muffle him and he already knew 'kahl's and Cartman's voices.

"Whatevah. Anyway, this place has rules, new kid, and yer gonna follow em."

Chess allowed his eyes to flick over to him, silently questioning him.

Cartman laughed. "Here's rule numbah one, I rule this place. Yew can't do shit till you come to myah. Second, hall fee is 5 bucks. You can just pay 15 each day for the three times of passing period in advance. Third, respect mah authoritah! Now pay up the fees checkers."

He looked up again to see the boy holding out his hand expectantly, chubby face lifted in an ugly smile. Chess stood up to full height, although being just about 5 ft, he was still pretty short. "I don't follow orders." He said simply, turning back to his locker and closing it. Throwing his backpack over his shoulder, he walked away, smirking to himself as he heard the boy sputter out enraged curses.

First period was simple, easy and quick. He had algebra, which he was already good at. Introductions went smoothly, and he was happy to see that only the Jewish guy, what was his name, Connor? Chris? Whatever, was in the class.

Second period was a bit more annoying, being science. He was neutral about it, not liking nor hating and had an average grade. None of the group were in this class, thankfully.

However, all the sluts from the morning were giggling and tossing notes onto his desk, asking if he was single or wanted to go out and shit. He just threw them all away, wishing he had brought a lighter to burn them behind the school. Too bad he didn't smoke.

Third period was PE, which also went smoothly, considering how all they did was explain the rules of volleyball. He didn't bother paying attention, knowing he'd just pick it up from watching the others when they actually played.

Lunch started and he walked into the cafeteria, eyes scanning the room. He didn't know anyone, but it wasn't like he brought a lunch anyway. Shrugging to himself, he stuffed his hands into his vest pockets and turning on his heels to stroll back out. Maybe he could just hang out in the library and read comics or something.

That thought was eradicated as hands grabbed his shoulders and wrists and led him through the room to a table, shoving him down to a sitting position.

Blinking confusedly and stunned, he looked at his captors and nearly scowled.

Them.

Of course it was.

Noticing his irritation, the parka guy patted his shoulder but was shrugged away and sent a dark look. " mphm mph...(sorry dude...)" He mumbled apologetically, looking down at his hands. Chess almost felt bad and reminded himself that he could not feel such a pitiful emotion and remained stoic.

They sat in a tense uncomfortable silence, him glaring at them and them fidgeting where they sat.

Just as he moved to get up and leave, more students sat at the table, squishing chess between two boys. One was a messy haired red coated brunette and the other wore a blue and yellow poof balled chullo.

All eyes fell on him as the chatter lessened and cartman spoke up. "That's checkers. He's the new kid." The chullo guy turned steel grey eyes on him, looking disinterested. He spoke in a nasally voice as he glanced him over. "what kind of name is checkers." A small boy with blonde hair and innocent baby blue eyes smiled nervously. "Well he wears a lot of checkers!"

"What's with the tie?"

"Is that a barrette?"

"Cool, his eyes are red."

"A-a-are y-you a-Ack!- v-vampire?!"

"Nice boots."

"You don't talk much."

"What is your actual name?"

His fingers twitched in his lap and he slouched forward, the questions annoying him further. He settled for boring a hole in the table with his eyes instead of answering.

"That's Victor K. Chess."

His head shot up in surprise, practically twitching, and eyes widening to prove startled. His head turned towards the speaker, cringing internally when he saw it had been the blonde girl who had flirted with him earlier. What was her name again? Beatrice? Betty? Ah, Bebe.

"Chess? Is that why you wear so many checkers?"

"Thought his name was Victor."

"What the fuck ever."

"Victor, huh?" A black boy, the only one he'd seen so far at all said, as though testing the name. Chess found this the appropriate time to finally introduce himself. "Aka Chess." He muttered.

Fatass cracked up. "Wow, yew wear so muh checkers and yer name is Chess?! Hilarious!" Chess turned towards him and spoke in a nearly monotone voice. "Says fatass." He shot back, although quieter.

The boys mouths made an O shape. "Ooooooooohhhh..."

"Mhp!(burn!)" Kenny cheered, pumping his arm once. Cartman smacked him. "Shut the hell up, Kinneh!" He whined. Turning, he glared at chess. "I'm not fat, fag."

Chess raised an eyebrow. "Your gaydar must be malfunctioning. I though gays were supposed to be able to sense other fags." "Oooooooh!" The boys cheered again, leaning in to watch the exchange.

Cartmans face flushed with anger, standing and pointing obnoxiously as he opened his mouth to reply. But Chess just stood as well, albeit awkwardly as he brushed past the two beside him and flipped him off. "I'm done here. Leave me alone, fatass."

"AYE AH AINT FAT YOU FAHKN VAMPIRE!"

Ignoring him in favor of blowing a bubble out of his gum, he stuffed his hands into his vest pockets and strolled away just as the bell rang for class.

He didn't go to his last three classes, opting instead to sit in the woodland beside the school, letting off a low whistle and spinning a long carrot between his fingers. Eventually, to his satisfaction, he saw the Snow White rabbit bound out from around the roots of a pine, shaking snow from its fluffy pelt.

Although he was supposed to be mad, he couldn't help but smile at the furry creature now perched obediently at his feet, little red nose twitching.

"Marsh."

Perky little red beads shot up at him and he chuckled without his usual restraint, petting his furry little cheeks as he offered the carrot.

"You followed me from home again, didn't you?" In a rabbit way of a nod, his ears flicked up and down once, peering up at him almost apologetically. He chuckled again, but softer, letting his hood that he had pulled up fall back down against the back of his checkered vest.

"Marsh, I know I usually take you everywhere, but I don't know this place well yet. What if something happens when your out with me? The other students might hurt you, and I heard there's a hunter around these woods..." He shuddered at the image of his rabbit butchered and bleeding into the fluffy white snow and grimaced, scooping up the bunny. Noticing he shook slightly, not used to the cold he gently placed his little rabbit feet inside of his hood, grinning when he felt him lean forward to place his paws onto his shoulder and nibble at the white strands of his hair. "Yeah yeah, I forgive you! Schools over, let's get ho-"

"You named your rabbit Marsh?"

Chess froze. Oh god.

No.

Not them...! 

* * *

Yay, first chapter!

I had started obsessing over watching SouthPark a little while ago, and as all things I obsess watch, I ended up writing fanfiction. OC fanfics first, then smut. I didn't watch it long enough to reach smut level, but I got a not-failtastic-OC-fic! Does that make up for it? No? Oh well...

I've already written up to chapter 8, but I'm going to post them slowly instead of all at once to keep balance...

-Author


	2. Fml I'm gone

Looking over his shoulder, mindful of Marsh he groaned out loud seeing the four boys from earlier. The fat guy crossed his arms, clearly displeased at his displeasure.

"Hey! We're not that bad!"

"Yes you are," Chess pointed out bluntly.

"Albino vampire."

"Fatass."

"Aye I'm not fat!"

"Then it's your ego in physical form."

"Got em," Stan interrupted, "in all seriousness though, your rabbit is my last name." Chess glanced over at Marsh mallow, frowning.

"Dammit Marsh."

"Which one?"

"Are you a rabbit?"

"No."

"Then it's you."

Kyle coughed, getting their attention. "Look, Victor-"

"Chess."

"Both your name. We wanted to apologize for our behavior earlier."

"No we don-" Cartman sputtered, choking on his spit When Kyle's knee stabbed into his guy.

"Yes, we wanted to apologize. Especially Cartman." Cartman glared.

"Don't tell me what to do yew fahkin Jew!"

"Fatass."

"IM BIG BONED!"

"In which dimension?"

Cartman huffed, crossing his arms and pouting childishly. Turning back to Chess, Kenny held out his hand.

"Mhp mhp mhppp MHP!" He said cheerfully.

Chess blinked, staring at the blue eyes. "...Um... What?"

"Mph mph mph mph!"

"..."

"mph mph mph mph."

"..."

Cartman broke in. "He said: to peace and boobs."

"..."

Kyle poked him. "Guys, I think we broke him," He yelped when Marsh snapped at his hand, bristling.

At this gesture from his beloved creature friend, Chess's eyes narrowed just subtly enough not to be noticed.

Marsh was always right.

_Always._

So, when Cartman extracted his hand, chubby fingers wriggling, he backed a step away... And his back collided with something. Turning, he saw it was Kenny. Growling, he jerked away from all four of them and to the side, feeling Marsh hop down out of his hood to prance about his old combat boots, hackles raised in warning.

"Don't fucking touch me." He ground out, his stomach feeling tight.

Kenny spread his arms wider in a welcoming gesture, loosening his muffle to talk clearly.

"Why not? You a germaphobe?" Chess shook his head. No. He just... Wasn't used to physical contact, after his mom and dad divorced. And it wasn't like he had any siblings... All he had was Marsh. All he ever had was Marsh.

But he wasn't about to tell them that.

Glaring, he rolled his eyes. "I have no need to state my reasons."

"Oh, he's a formal fag!"

"Shut up, fatass, your not helping!"

"Aye! Shut yer dirty Jew mouth Kahl!"

Using their argument to his advantage, chess turned tail, scooping marsh into his arms and booking it deeper into the woods. He didn't make it far, for a gloved hand snapped out and wrapped around his midriff, tackling him to the snow. Marsh wriggled out of his hands just in time to avoid being crushed and squeaked angrily.

Chess writhed beneath whoever had grabbed him, yelling curses as he grabbed his wrists and twisted them behind his back. Only needing one hand to hold Chess down, the other reached up and clamped over Chess's lips, silencing him.

"Wmph fa FHPK?!" Chess howled into the glove with he recognized as Stan's. He bucked beneath him, shivering as the snow soaked into his thin green shirt.

"Dude, shut up! We're not going to rape you or something, geeze," He heard Cartman say. Like _HELL_ he was going to calm down! He's being forcefully held down in the snow with some kid sitting on his back!

He felt Marsh sniffle up at his face, nudging his cheeks with a cold nose. Despite the situation, Chess chuckled at the rabbit.

He scowled however when he felt Stan's hand, which had just be removed of his mouth press against his sides, ribs, shoulders and back.

"Your really skinny, dude," Stan murmured above him.

Chess squirmed in discomfort, grunting with the effort it took under Stan's weight. Which wasn't much, but Chess wasn't exactly the strongest of people...

"Now, yer going to accept ah apology, faggot, and tell us what the fuck is up with yew. Everyone knows everyone's dirt here, checkers, and your no exception," Cartman ordered, speaking as though he owned authority over him. Like _hell_, he did! _Fuck no!_

Not taking his silence for a suitable answer, Cartman growled.

"Now, checkers. I need to get home." Chess grimaced.

"Fuck you fat boy."

"What's yew call meh, assho?! Stan, break his arms!"

"Uh, what?"

"Break his stupid arms! If that so hard?!"

"I'm not gonna break his arms, dude, what the fuck!"

"Well SOMEBODYS gotta do it!"

"And it won't be me!"

"Ugh, FINE! Screw yew gahs, I'm goin' home!" With a wave, he stomped off, looking pissed.

Chess let out a relieved sigh without thinking, muscles twitching and his entire body shaking.

Feeling Stan around him, so close, feeling physical contact, it was not something he was used to. He hated it, it tingled and burned and was so uncomfortable and overwhelming. Feeling his heart speed up and his breathing hitching in the beginnings of hyperventilation he reared up, shoving stan off and bolting, picking up Marsh without stopping and hiding him close to his chest.

Lucky for Chess that he played soccer- well, used to- and his well built legs carried him far away. The lower tree branches whipped at his cheeks and bare arms, leaving tears in his vest and scratched on his boots but he didn't care.

He ran until he got home, and this time no one followed him. 


	3. With carrots come disaster

Part 3... I feel like I've made this entire story too much, too many events and bad things happening while no good to Chess... That doesn't mean I will anytime soon. I'm so nice. -A

* * *

He didn't want to go to school the next day, but he knew that education, no matter how bad or annoying was important for him, and if he ever wanted to not end up homeless working at mcdonalds, he'd need it. His mom had said the same thing... Before she left him with his Aunt.

He warily walked towards his locker, slowly, uncertainly. When he reached it and surprisingly no one bother him, he opened it and grabbed his stuff, putting some other books in it to replace the empty space. Contented and a little less cautious, he walked down the hall to algebra. He groaned however, remembering he shared said class with a certain red haired Jewish boy. 'Dammit.'

He had had his hood up when he had walked in, shadowing his face and hiding the untreated cuts from yesterday, the exhausted circles under his eyes. But his arms 'proudly' wore the purple and yellow green bruises Stan had given him holding him down so hard. His leg muscles were shot from the run, and he barley managed to stumble towards his seat, biting his lip when he couldn't stop from just falling into it.

He knew Kyle was staring at him, he could tell even through his hood and long white tipped hair. He was watching. Seeing how badly yesterday had affected his body, creating a strain of his physical form.

However, with his hood up, it was big enough for Marsh to climb in and lay at the back of his neck, pawing at his hair and rubbing his soft pelt against his skin, almost reassuringly. Chess nearly smiled at the thought but reminded himself that he was in public and instead just let it barley a twitch of his lips before they settled back to a non expressive line.

He didn't pay attention in the least, instead subtly playing with Marsh, slipping him carrot shreds and nuts and berries. He knew Kyle probably saw, but didn't care enough to tell on him.

When Marsh stretched his neck for he next almond, he unintentionally brushed against one of the bigger untreated cuts, causing Chess to wince, fingers and legs twitching. He was used to this, as humiliating as it was. Used to knowing to run as soon as danger or pain made itself present. If any threat was within range, he was gone. With his dad gone, that feeling had settled some, but yesterday's... 'Incident' had strengthened it.

Kyle looked at him. Actually a few people looked at him. He just stared them down until they looked away again, letting more of a glare leak to Kyle. He could see the smaller boy flinch at whatever emotion he had in his blood crimson red eyes.

He turned away, feeling almost sick at the content he felt for kyle's discomfort. He deserved it, didn't he?

Second and third period went smoothly, none of the fours boys in either class. The girls who usually bothered him seemed to sense his growing irritation and steered clear of him, whispering amongst themselves and shooting glances at him which he ignored.

Lunch.

The one thing he dreaded the most.

Why?

No supervision, no intervening teacher, and everyone was there. Remembering the way yesterday's lunch had gone, he immediately headed the opposite way from the cafeteria, set on hiding up on the roof, since the library obviously didn't work. He had carrots he could give to Marsh if he got hungry anyway. Digging through his pockets, he froze.

He was out of carrots.

In a moment of hesitance he just stood stock still until someone behind him shoved him, telling him to 'not stand in the middle of the fucking hallway.' He made sure to trip them before strolling away.

They had baggies of carrots in the cafeteria, didn't they? The small ones? They'd be perfect for Marsh... But he'd have to go in the cafeteria. But he had fed Marsh through the last class, he shouldn't need anymore food. Still, he felt his legs pulling him towards the cafeteria doors and 'inevitable doom', as so dramatically put.

With a final sigh of uneasiness, legs twitching almost spastically he walked in. Eyes turned towards him, almost half the cafeteria and he felt himself freeze. For a split second, the spotlight was on him. He swallowed once and then moved his hood to show his eyes, glaring them all down.

Grabbing two bags of carrots, one for later he flipped off the table that the foursome sat at. He twitched when he saw them getting up and moving towards him, walking casually despite all of his brain and legs screaming at him to run. Once they got within ten feet, he gave in, his twitchy legs invisible as he practically vanished away down the hall.

Fourth period was language arts. He didn't go to it yesterday, but the teacher was a very old lady with shaky hands and a stutter and nearly blind eyes and ears. She didn't even notice he wasn't there. However, Cartman, Kenny, Stan, and Kyle were all in that class.

Goddammit.

It turned out having such an old teacher was a bad thing, because it meant anyone could do literally whatever they wanted.

Which means the foursome all crowded his desk, blocking off escapes.

Kyles POV

I noticed Chess's legs began to twitch again, violently, and frowned. Was that some sort of medical condition? Maybe he was like Tweek.

"What's up with your leg?" Chess didn't answer, though his eyes shot to his legs and he looked mildly panicked. Kenny pulled up his chin and ignoring his bitten off yelp, examining the cuts, the bruises on his arms.

He looked pointedly at Stan, most likely as ask him to stop Chess from thrashing so he could look better but Stan backed away. He was probably guilty against causing those bruises on his arms. I'm guilty although I didn't even do anything. He hadn't done anything to us... We wanted to apologize and made it worse instead.

Chess POV

Kenny pulled down his muffle to speak clearly, head bobbing as he thought. "Dude, did you even clean these?" Chess just stared at him, refusing to answer. He winced again, squeezing one eye shut and his hands twitching when Kenny brushed his thumb over one of the smaller wounds. Marsh snapped at the fingers and kenny pulled back with a bitten off yelp as the jagged little fangs brushed warningly over his skin.

"You didn't. These will get infected really quick, has your parents seen them?" This time, not only Kyle noticed his flinch at the word parents. Cartmans jaw dropped. "No way..." He pointed, screaming. "Your adopted!"

Chess eyes widened and his own mouth fell open, head swinging around so quickly he got backlash and groaned softly. Marsh squealed from his hood and he could feel him scrabble for a hold. "I'm not adopted, fatass." He mumbled quietly. "Then explain this!" Cartman roared, laughing hysterically.

"...my parents are divorced." He muttered, grounding his teeth. His twitchy legs had gone still and he had unconsciously moved to a position where he could easy kick cartman in the balls. Silence fell over the room, and chess finally realized that everyone had been listening.

Ms. Fyrestone, the teacher finally noticed what was going on and coughed somewhat awkwardly. "Eric, Stanley, Kenneth, and Kyle, I suggest you return to your seats this instance."

Grudgingly, they trudged back to their chairs and slid into them- flopping onto it in cartmans case. Kyle and stan looked shocked, dismayed even. Well shit.

With that thought firmly cemented in his brain, he stood, slinging his back pack over his shoulder to stroll out of the classroom despite his teachers yelling... Ditching for the second time in two days.

He had, as he had recently made a habit, visited the forest. However, when he reached the clearing of scuffed snow and pine needles he felt his nose twitch. Much like how Marsh did when he found something he didn't like. He scowled, Avoiding the clearing entirely.

Considering how forest surrounded all of South Park and the school was on the outskirts, it was not even a five minute walk until all you could see was pine needles and snow. Chess found a large rock, warmed from the sun and flipped onto it, sighing into its smooth surface and closing his eyes.

Marsh wriggled out, making himself comfy against Chess's nose. He sneezed, grinning gently at Marsh. Scooping up the bunny, he snuggled the furry bundle under the flap of his vest to conceal the heat in his shaking body. The rabbit wasn't all too used to the cold yet.

Without meaning or even realizing, he fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

I am so, SO sorry on A's behalf for Kenny's OOC-ness -Light

She's really not, I don't believe she cares about the matter. -E

Ignore E -Light


	4. I don't need help

AAAAyyyyyyyyeeee.

I'm off hiatus.

When Chess awoke, he was stiff and shaking from the biting cold, his unguarded arms and face blue. He gasped in surprise, raising abruptly and finally noting Marsh's pretense. The rabbit looked frantic, hopping about on the rock and screeching squeaks at him. He was much more concerned over his condition, however, and jumped to his feet.

Bad move.

As if he had broken like thin branches, he crumpled back down into the snow, groaning as his jaw smashed down upon the frosty rock devoid of the suns previous warmth. He was so cold... It numbed his senses, to a point of almost unfeeling. But the stinging freeze tinged pain in his joints and he dared not move them in fear that they'd snap.

So he laid there, still, cautious, careful. The slightest touch he felt as if would shatter him. So fragile.

So... _Vulnerable._

He hated that word. He despised it. He wished its existence was naught.  
It was a cruel, unforgiving word. One that reminded him of how he was helpless to stop his parents from leaving each other, leaving him. He knew their fighting would only get worse, but he didn't nothing to help. Could he have changed it all? Would his insight have mattered? Could he have saved their family? Well, he'd never know, it was too late. They were all gone.

As far as he was concerned,  
he had no family.  
He was alone.

He couldn't take it, the pressure and truth those words crushed within his young skull. It wore down on his sanity. The guilt felt like shackles that were too heavy too keep carrying, nicking into his wrists and rubbing him raw.So, he did the only thing he could. He wrenched his frostbitten fingers from the snow and pressed them into the grooves of the rock as though to anchor him from insanity... And slammed his forehead down against the stone.

He _screamed. _His lungs burned and he felt like the words he had holed up under his screen and in his blood crawling up his throat like bile he had swallowed down and gotten sick from. In truth, he had. It made him ill, tainting and rotting him. HE felt like they were clawing him apart from the inside.

He expressed his built up fear, anger, guilt, worry, regret, sorrow, frustration, confusion... But most of all, he cried out for help. All the words unspoken that had simmered and pulsed within his blood now dripped down the rock and his forehead.

His aunt, who rarely was even home cared too little, understood too little. Thought him too young, a misunderstanding child. She was the one who didn't get it. No one got it. Everyone was inferior. Especially him. He wasn't worthy of his own life. But he wasn't going to allow the thoughts, the part of him without even a physical shape to win. He was inferior, yes, but he never was going to be to a part of himself.

No one could or would understand that feeling of knowing you could have done something that would have helped for the better, and didn't even try.

It was a selfish act. He was selfish.

He let it all go, the torrent of emotions he had shoved down his throat and choked on as he tried to swallow. He threw up all up, creating a mess of gargles sounds and a terrible scratching and wet thud noise. A trickle of liquid and sobbing. Curses and wails. His nails tore at his skin and the rock alike, leaving deep grooves that bled blood and showered hard dust over the red puddle slowly forming at his frost covered knees. His head aches with a headache unlike ever he had experience, but with the numbing cold, he didn't even notice.

So he smashed and scratched and shattered, becoming a horrid _thing_ who desired destruction, wished to pay back everyone who had wronged him. _They deserved it._ They _all_ did. Look at what they did to him. They ruined him. _They destroyed him._

He screeched as arms suddenly hooked beneath his own, pulling him away from the shockingly bloody mess stone. They ignored his thrashing, pressing him down into the cool snow and pinning him there. He sobbed and hiccuped, unable to stop now that he had started. The tears blurred his vision until all he could see was a painfully bright mix of colors. Warmth encased his lithe frame, burying him in it, suffocating him in it.

_'What is this'_

He had never felt it before. The sobs slowly faded as he pondered more and more over it. Confusion and stoic thoughtfulness took over his previous wrecked state to a point where thought the tears kept their tracks, if not they wouldn't have realized he'd been crying at all.

_'Who are you'_

Whoever held this didn't seem to like that though, and he felt whatever held him pull tighter. "Were friends, Victor. Trust us." And with that, he burst back into tears.

_Friends? _

What were friends? He had always been so occupied with his family that he never had time to make friends. He only needed his sister. He only ever did. But she wasn't here now. He doubted she ever would be again.

_'I don't have friends, stranger...'_

Emotions, feelings, friendships, love, family.

_'I can't...'_

Things he didn't have...

...Couldn't be broken.

His sobs racked through his body, muffling his cries into his savior's shoulder. Slowly, the sobs ebbed away into sniffling, the sniffling into an alarming quiet. Almost immediately after stopping, he felt so tired. Exhausted. Empty. Like the life had been sucked from him. All pain left his body, the numbness taking over. His eyelids dropped, and he heard muffled words all around him. He swore he saw a little white blur nuzzling his hand, pushing it with its little invisible nose.

_'I want to sleep.'_

His face felt so wet, sticky and disgusting. Red intruded his vision and he recalled his head injury. He wondered just how much blood had probably spilled, and how much more he had just lost in his minor tantrum. He nearly smiled. "I'm going to die, aren't i, marsh?" He wasn't sure if he said the words, he couldn't hear anything. He was so dazed, sleepy, black edging the corners of his eyes. The voices volume escalated until he could just barely make one out. "Don't you dare fall asleep, dammit!"

_'Sorry stranger'_

The word fell away from his frozen finger tips, out of his reach.

And he allowed it to, glad even.

He hoped his parents suffered in guilt for causing his death.

'_You better or I'm gonna haunt you'_

I added in a bunch of his private thoughts... mainly because drama is dramatic.


	5. Chapter 5

When chess woke up for the second time that day- if it was still the same day, he ached all over. The white in the room made his head hurt even more than it already was and he groaned, reaching up but finding he couldn't. Looking down, a wire was connected to his arm, a needle pierced through his skin and attached to an IV drip.

Pulling himself up to a sitting position and realizing he wore a hospital gown, he looked around. Kyle and Stan sat asleep in two of the chairs closest to the door, slumped against each other. Cartman and kenny weren't currently present, but chess was glad they weren't. He got lucky that the other two were asleep.

Back to business. Why was he here? Chess began to run his finger pads lightly over his skin, searching for injuries. His current IV was filled of a clear liquid he knew they used for nutrients the last him he ended up here for lack of, but a spectate used IV in the corner was filled of his blood type and looked half empty.

Where did he hurt the most? His head and hands. Gently, he touched his scalp. It burned at his touch, covered in a crisp white bandage that pushed up his white tipped hair. He winced, pulling away. Oh yeah. He smashed his skull on a boulder. Wonderful.

Glancing around again, he noticed his original clothes were hanging on hooks on the back of the door. His boots were on the floor by the door and his watch on the table next to him. Using that table to brace himself, he cautiously pulled himself up. He needed to get of here before they woke up. They would demand an explanation that he couldn't afford to give.

However, to leave he'd have to abstract the IV from his arm, and all the other wires, which would set off his heart monitor. But he had been to hospitals before, and as unfamiliar as this one was, he could still find the switch off for the monitor. With it now off, he yanked out the wires and IV and slipped clumsily off the bed, stumbling towards his clothes and silently changing.

At the sight of rabbit fur on his clothes he frowned. Where was marsh? Did he run home? The doctors won't have let him come, especially not into a hospital. He must've run home, because none of the boys knew where he lived.

His mind more at ease knowing marsh was most likely safe at home, he pondered escaping the hospital.

They obviously wouldn't just let him leave, it takes hours to be discharged. And they'd probably wake the boys. He couldn't handle that right now. He needed to get home and pull things back on order. Just like he always had.

He would go back to daily routine, the boys would irritate and annoy him, he would make smart ass comebacks, skip periods, hang out with marsh, and go to his aunts house. Not his, his aunts, because he didn't have a home. It was taken away piece by piece by his parents and sister.

He refused the dark thoughts to affect him and shook his head as though shedding water, regretting it when it spiked pain in his skull. What floor of the hospital was he on? Where even was the hospital? Could he get home from there even? It occurred to chess that he had no idea where he was, and panicked slightly. Darting to a window, he looked out and held in a gasp. A sign outside said "hells pass hospital"... And it was on the top of a mountain. South Park was at the bottom!

"Who in hell would put the only hospital on a mountain?!"

He couldn't hold back the outburst but gasped when he did, slapping his hands over his mouth. Stan blinked open his eyes, eyelids fluttery and sleepy. When he saw chess, he jerked up, causing kyle to fall and awake as well.

"What the fuck dude!" He complained, rubbing his now sore shoulder. He shut up when he saw chess, both parties frozen. "Chess?" Chess flinched. Yep, he really had no choice now. I hatching the lock of the window and slamming it open, he practically flung himself outside, uncaring of how high they were.

He got lucky, they were only on the second floor. He heard a crunch and immense pain flood his ankle, however. He cry became a whimper as he bit his lips, forcefully pushing himself off the snow that had broken his fall to start his dash down the mountain. Even with the wound which he assumed was just a twisted ankle, considering he could run with minimal pain, he ran fast. He mentally thanked soccer over and over, trying to distract himself with anything but the pain and the dark thoughts lurking at the corner of his mind.

It didn't take long, to his embarrassment and almost relief that he collapsed into the snow. Grunting painfully, he curled in on himself and wrapping his battered fingers around his ankle as though that would fix it. It actually made it worse, but in the state he was, it was slightly comforting to have that pressure reassuring him that he was still alive.

The tears came quickly for the second in a long time, hot and wet and suffocating. He choked on his sobs and felt his face numbing from the cold. It was so familiar.

He couldn't repeat it, if he was to escape, he wasn't going to die in the way he had ended up trapped in the first place. So, with much effort, he pushed himself off the cool snow on shaky arms. Eventually ending up back on his feet, he unsteadily limped towards the houses in the distance.

Nearly there, just a little farther.

His vision was blurring in and out of focus and he could tell his wounds reopened by the way the snow around him was tainted crimson with each step.

The houses, they were so close! Just a few feet away...

"VICTOR!"

He spun around with a heightening sense of dismay and panic. He'd know that voice anywhere, after all this shit. Kyle. Kyle broflovski had found him.

Without thinking, eyes wide and unfocused, he spun back and bolted. He ignored their frantic calls and the sound of their thudding footsteps. His legs burned and stomache clenched, but he did not stop. His aunts house was safe. There he could retreat and heal. No one was there to talk with, to acknowledge. He was safe there. It was safe.

He constantly repeated that to himself, thinking 'safe, safe, her house is safe, must reach safety.' It was a silent chant to boost his determination, or rather desperation. He could feel his wounds screaming and beating against his consciousness, but he dared not stop to rest.

They would catch him if he stopped.

This spurred him on, faster then before until the blurred colors of his house came into view.

He stretched out his hand, finger tips catching the ledge he used to climb up to enter his always unlocked window when his aunt wasn't home. It wasn't like he had a key, after all.

But his grip was weak, and he barely managed to pull himself up. He stopped for a moment, panting and gasping. His body throbbed with pain and through all the ringing in his ears he could hear the steady splatter of his blood as it dropped off the roof. His aunt was going to have a fit.

Standing dangerously weak, he staggered towards his window and pressed his finger tips into the cool glass pane. As expected, it slipped open.

He was there. He was safe.

With that final thought, his mind gave out and he felt his body crumble beneath him, knees buckling and eyes rolling back as he fell through the open window.

I was planning to change the story direction in this chapter since the next few are... weird, but I can't get around to it because I have no time to edit my stuff anymore.


	6. No good deed goes unpunished

I know I haven't updated anything in a while- school's made me very busy this year and I've been getting more publicly involved in my art rather than my writing!

I'm still writing, of course, I wouldn't stop for the world. But I will be slower than a slug on drugs.

When Chess awoke in pain for what felt like the third time, which it was, he was fed up.

He couldn't live like this! He couldn't go to school, and avoid the four, walk around, and avoid the four, go to class, and avoid the four, go to lunch, and avoid the four, and go home; _avoiding the four_.

All it had done so far was brutally injure him and cause major, not to mention purely unnecessary, emotional breakdowns. His dignity had been sliced apart by each of them, all his barriers blown to bits until the tiny, vulnerable and broken boy showed through. And he hated that. Hated letting people see. Letting them _pity_ him.

_He would not take pity. _

...He wasn't sure how much more his sanity could withstand, either.

-

Chess didn't return to school that week. He locked in his room; surrounded by bloody bandages and medical tape and creams to avoid infection. He changed the bandages every few hours, setting the times farther apart each day until he changed it once a day.

It was hard, holing up to change his wounds in secret. His aunt hadn't bothered to check on him, and just occasionally left a sandwich or something at his door. It was very nice of her, and surprising. She was never around for him to thank her, though.

He knew the boys were trying to talk to him, throwing rocks at his window, knocking at his door, slipping notes into his aunts mailbox for him. One of the girls from the school had dropped off his homework for him, so he at least had a distraction. Marsh was no where to be found most of the time, though he swore he spotted a white fluff ball peer through his window during the night and nuzzle him gently before hopping away.

Everything was fine, quiet, peaceful. He had time to heal his wounds and think. What was he to do now? There wasn't, as there usually was, an easy solution. So he lived out his days of recuperation, hiding in a locked room surrounded by his own blood and medicine.

That didn't last long.

-

A tap at his window woke him up, but he refrained sitting up. It was probably marsh, maybe his claws hit the pane? The boys never came at night...

He waited to feel Marshs fur brush against his skin, to see if it was truly him, but nothing happened. Instead he shivered as outsides cold air whispered lullabies against his bruised cheeks. Cold.

Chess sat up this time. 'Did the wind push my window open?' It had happened before, nothing to be surprised about there. However, a caped figure in purple stood at his window, staring down at him from under the shadows of his drawn up hood.

Chess stuttered even as he gasped, shuffling backwards off his bed and biting back his scream when his still sensitive and frail spine snapped against the hard wood. He moaned in agony, squeezing his eyes shut. Forcing them back open, he glared at the man, or woman still standing there. They walked closer, ignoring his growl in warning and held out a hand.

Chess blinked. Why would this stranger help him? He, or she, who cared just broke into his aunts home! Eyes glittering with suspicion, he asked. "Who are you, and why are you here." The person smiled. "I am Mysterion. I only wish to help."

"You can help by leaving."

"Like you "helped" the hospital by leaving?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Leaving the hospital and ordering my departure with only further disturb your condition."

"So?"

"So let me help you."

As he said this, he walked closer, lowering his hand to his side. Chess not backed up further, crawling backwards in crab style. "Stop! Don't touch me! Leave! This isn't your home!"

"It's not yours either. You said so yourself."

Chess froze. Who the hell was this man who claimed he knew him?! No one knew him! No one understood!

It was better that way.

"I know you. I understand. I can tell your wounds hurt. Please let me help you. I promise to leave after."

Chess only narrowed his eyes. "If a stranger dressed like a superhero broke into your aunts house, telling you he understands and wants to help, would you believe him?"

"Yes."

"Then you are a fool. You are foolish to think I would. That thinking will get you killed."

"This is southpark. Everyone knows everyone's dirt here. If someone would do something so dangerous here to murder, we'd know. But that danger is what makes this town so... Unique."

Chess frowned. He had a point. This is South Park, anything could happen... But anyone affected would always heal quickly. The effects don't last.

They won't stay forever.

That was what did him in, and he nodded. "Fine. But never return again." The man- or rather, Mysterion smiled smugly and quickly, but gently grabbed chess's thankfully uninjured shoulder to turn him around.

Starting with his back, he took a wash pan and wrung the rag of the dried blood, wetting it and wiping away the dirt and old blood from the wounds, dressing and wrapping them. He took special care with his hands and head, using feather light touches as avoiding touching the sore areas.

Chess sat in rigid silence, taking deep breaths to keep calm. It took everything in his power to not move, restraining his legs tightly to the floor. His hands clenched tightly at each other to keep still, cursing mentally each time he felt himself twitch.

For once during the day, marsh hopped through his window to check on him, carrying a new bundle of bandages. The purse tied to his back shook with the change it held. Allowing the rabbit to hop into his lap, he carefully untied the string and opened the purse to find a receipt and some coins. 'These aren't mine... My money is stored away for college...' He thought.

When marsh saw "Mysterion", his hackles rose and he growled. Mysterion breathed out, a barely audible gasp and inched away subtly. He didn't seem to want chess to notice, but after years of observing outcomes for his future, it was blandly obvious. Marsh squeaked and squealed, jumping around and gaze flickering from chess to mysterion. 'Is he trying to tell me something?' He wondered, confused.

He got his answer when marsh scrabbled at his vest until Hess lowered his hand for marsh to run up onto the too of his fluffy hair, glaring at mysterion. For a few seconds, marsh just rocked back and forth atop chess's head, both males watching nervously.

Then marsh leapt off chess head, landing firmly on mysterion and ripping away his hood. Blond hair tore free of the murky violet cape and blue eyes glittered out in the light from the window he came through.

Kenny.

I admit I edited like, the first paragraph before I gave up


	7. i know and i apologize

I wrote this while emotional and they transferred into this chapter so id like to just apologize right now before an angry had comes to drown me because i can't even read this to edit it

BUT! It was requested of me.

So... here?

Just. shh. its okay. I know. Im suffering too.

I couldn't find the other two chapters so ill try again later bc school isn't cool but a degree would be so I'm gonna go finish m homework

(BTW to the anon who asked me to post the next two parts (and maybe the alternative part i have) I very glad you saw my message in Afterimage! I wasn't sure if you'd see it or not so I'm happy you did uwu)

* * *

It took all but half a millisecond for chess to ingest the information that the "stranger" who broke into his aunts home was kenny McCormick.

He leapt of the bed, allowing his instinct that had grown over the years to take over. Practically spasming, he moved away, legs snapping beneath him. He sprung up, literally, and held out his hands to soften his fall. Instead, his legs jerked beneath him and pushed him back up. He was shocked himself at how high he subconsciously jumped, and smashed into the wall.

Slipping down the wall he had crashed against, he groaned. Something wet trickled down his uncovered heads wound and he sighed in irritation. Great, the wound opened.

Kenny, found his spot still on the bed took off his mask, having no point in needing it now. "Chess, calm the fuck down, dude, I'm not gonna hurt you." Chess only glared. Marsh stood up on his hind legs and gave him an "I told you so" look. Kenny got up, standing and walking over to most likely help chess back up, but stopped when the smaller began to twitch again. "Dude, that's creepy."

Without a word, chess stood back up, pressing one palm to his head and the other on the wall to stabilize his stance. Kenny reached out to help him again but chess backed away until he was squished against the wall, glaring at the other. "Don't. Touch. Me." He seethed, hissing out the words venomously.

Kenny raised both hand son defense and backed away. "Chill."

"I don't like the cold."

"I can tell."

They just stared each other down, waiting for the other to make a move.

Eventually, chess reached for the sniper to his right, snapping off the safety and swinging it up to his shoulder. "Back out the window, kenny. I wear green and black for a reason." Kenny backed away even more. The blood drained from his face as the weapon in chess's shaky hands. "Y-you w-w-won't." He stuttered out. But even he didn't believe he wouldn't.

Chess's glare was unforgiving, merciless. Deadly... And strange intoxicating. "Try me." He ground out. "I was born to an army father, before my parents divorced. He taught me to use a gun before I was four. I've used this sniper before, McCormick. On a human. Want to know why?" Kenny nodded slowly, fearing that if he didn't...

"...for hurting my mother."

Tears pricked chess's eyes. "For telling us he loved us and then beating away the memories. For not trying. For not helping." His hands griped the weapon tighter, until his knuckles shaded white. Kenny's eyes widened and he relaxed his defensive position. "You... Your parents didn't really divorce, did they..." Chess lowered his head.

Opening his mouth, he sang the song his sister did with him before his mother whisked her away.

"Your gone, gone, gone away, I watched you disappear... All that's left, is a ghost of you... Now were torn, torn, torn apart, there's nothing we can do... Just let me go well meet again soon...

Kenny smiled sorrowfully, understanding the meaning of the words almost too perfectly. Gently, he placed a hand on the sniper... And drew it to his skull.

For a moment, he wasn't kenny, he was Allison, his sister.

"Now wait, wait, wait for me, please hang around..."

They breathed in, their tears seeming to merge even from a foot away and shatter as diamonds at their feet.

"I'll see you when I fall asleep..."


End file.
